


Alayne Makes the Rules

by HotpantsMcGee



Series: The Adventures of Our Lord Protector [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drabble, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Sexual Content, Winds of Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotpantsMcGee/pseuds/HotpantsMcGee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alayne is excited for the upcoming tourney and wants to play a game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alayne Makes the Rules

**Author's Note:**

> So I've never published anything here, though I've written a few drabbles. I'm simply inspired by the fandom and wanted to contribute to this dirty ship we're sailing. This is WoW's Alayne chapter-verse. And in my head Alayne/Sansa is like legal, so slightly less creepy. Enjoy!

"How little is his finger, I ask you?”

Alayne did not dignify that question with an answer. Myranda was incredulous. _I swear to the Seven, if she brings that up again..._

"I'm going to check the vaults for my father. I'll find you later... Try to behave yourself until then, Randa." Alayne gave her a sly look. "I am a lady, Alayne! How could you insinuate such a thing." She gave Alayne a wink as she flitted off to find her own father.

It was such a busy day in the Eyrie. Shortly the last of the knights would be arriving for the tournament. Alayne was rather excited. She only had a short time to find Petyr, she picked up her pace. Alayne wanted to play a game.

Voices rang up the stairs and Alayne let out a sigh of relief knowing she'd finally found Petyr. She tried not to appear too giddy as she waited for him to finish his discussion. Alayne spewed the expected pleasantries and prayed these old oafs would hurry up the stairs. 

After it was clear they were quite far he turned to her. “Come,” Petyr said, “walk with me.” He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon. "You seem excited. Is it about time for our guests to arrive?" She never could hide much from him. Alayne was excited, but for a game Petyr didn't know he was playing. Not yet.

"The guests should arrive just before supper, my lord." Petyr paused in between torches mounted on the walls. "Enough with the formality, sweetling. What have you learned today?" _He thinks he's taking charge, bless._ "Nothing you don't already know," Petyr smirked at that. "But Lady Myranda causes me concern." 

He seemed almost startled. "Sweetling, you haven't been spilling secrets have you?" She turned to face him now that they were deep within the vault. "How could you accuse me of such a silly thing, Petyr? I'm simply concerned that Randa is spending too much time thinking of you. It's unseemly. You're a man still mourning his lost love," she said as she stepped forward. "She asks about you, you know?" They were only inches apart, Sansa lowered her voice, though she knew not even the dead could hear. 

Sansa heard his breath catch, just for a moment. _Perfect_ , she thought. "And what has my lady inquired after?" Sansa stepped even closer, brushing up against him. She ran a finger up the arm of his doublet. "She seems rather intrigued by certain features of yours. Why would she tease me with such nonsense?" Petyr let out a satisfied hum as she ran her finger slowly down his chest. Almost ghosting his infamous scar. Sansa always reminded him of it when it was her turn to play the game. 

Slowly her hands went between the folds in his fabric and cupped him. His breath caught again and she knew she had him. "She asks me about your _littlefinger_ ," she whispered into his ear. "This one, Petyr," Sansa grips him tighter and she can feel him twitch. "How do you reply, my lady?" He was breathing faster now.

He gasped as she whispered in his ear, "Why would your daughter know such a thing, Petyr? And most importantly why does Randa keep asking? Is it a simple jape, or does she already know?"

"Sansa, sweetling, you know Lady Royce japes. I don't doubt she is familiar with many little fingers, but mine is not included."

Sansa pressed kisses along his jaw, causing him to let out the smallest moan. _He thinks he's always so in control, but I know what he wants._ "Someone once told me that everyone in King's Landing was a liar, does the same ring true for the Eyrie?" She ran her hand into his hair as she bit his earlobe. Perhaps a bit too hard.

That time he let out a proper moan. "Of course not, my lady. I cannot lie to you, please don't be troubled by this foolishness," he said as he turned to catch her lips. Petyr's kiss landed on her cheek as she turned away. 

"You have a reputation as a very bad man, Petyr. A whoremonger for Gods sakes! I'm not sure I can fully trust you," she sighed as she turned away from him. 

He snaked his hands around her waist and quickly pulled her flush against him. Sansa could feel his arousal pressing against her. She was glad he couldn't see her smile. That would ruin all my fun. "Sweetling you know there is no one but you. How could there be? You're my little mockingbird," with that he spun her around and kissed her deeply.

"Please, my lady, how can I make it up to you?" He trailed kisses down her neck, across her collarbone. Sansa hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. "There is one way, get on your knees."

Petyr hesitated for just a moment. Sansa rolled her eyes. _Gods be good, if he's worrying about his breeches..._ He quickly sank to his knees, looking up at her like a lost puppy. _Perhaps I should pat him on his head?_ Sansa smiled down at him, "You know what I need Petyr, go ahead."

This time there was no hesitation as his hands went under her dress, sliding up her stockings. "You're so warm to the touch, sweetling. What a surprise from the Queen of the North," Petyr said as she gathered the cloth he moved up her body. Sansa grinned at him again. _Mayhaps someday._

To Petyr's utter delight he discovered her missing smallclothes. "Oh Sansa, I don't deserve a gift as sweet as this," he groaned as his fingertips trailed up and down her thighs. "You may be right, but I'll allow a taste for now. Be quick, Petyr." 

"As you wish, my lady," he said in a low, dark voice as he dove into her curls. Sansa was aching. Forgetting her smallclothes might not have been such an innocent mistake. She hoped for an opportunity to find him alone. This nonsense about Randa was a flimsy excuse.

Sansa bit her lip to keep from squealing as he pushed apart her folds. Petyr was greedy today and couldn't wait to start sucking her clit. "Gods, Petyr. I'm almost convinced it's only me you want," she gasped out. "This is the greatest treasure in the Seven Kingdoms," he said as he lifted her leg, placing it on his shoulder. 

Now he had access to her completely and licked her from top to bottom. _His beard will be soaked!_ Petyr placed two fingers at her entrance and she whimpered. "You're so wet for me, Sansa," he said as he teased her with his fingers. He moved back to her clit and made his intent known. 

I told him to be quick, Gods he is perfect at this. Petyr's fingers dipped in a little more, he was pushing her over the edge. Sansa knew she couldn't last much longer, she was already on the edge. His hand pumped faster and his tongue worked harder. "Come for me, sweetling," he rasped out as he worked at a frantic pace. Sansa bit her thumb to keep from crying out. She could wake the dead when he made her come. Her hips ground down on his face as she rode it out.

Once her breathing became steady, Petyr pulled a handkerchief from his doublet and helped mop her up. "I hope I have proved my loyalty, Sansa. These are the only legs I want spread before me," Petyr said as he set her to rights. He attempted to clean up his beard, but the cloth was practically soaked through.

His eyes grew dark, "I'll smell you on me all night, the final guests will be arriving any moment. I have no time to clean up. Harry the Heir will be watching you, wondering what your cunt tastes like. While I won't be able to escape the memory." 

_And you absolutely love it, Littlefinger._ Sansa knew she won this round. She was beside herself with joy. "Perhaps if you're lucky I will give you another memory after the feast," she said as she kissed him slowly. Sansa could feel him throbbing as she pressed against him. A smirk formed on her face, "I see that Myranda is a foolish girl now. She will never have this." A leer came over his face, "And what of Harry, sweetling?" Sansa let out a small laugh, "Petyr, it's just a game, you know that."

With that she turned and started towards the stairs. Sansa could feel his eyes on her. A smile crept across her face as she heard his footsteps finally fall. _This night belongs to me_ , she thought as she started up the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> How bad was it? Be nice. :) I don't know what I'm doing here, but I hope you creepers like it.
> 
> ETA: Thanks for the encouragement everyone, it really means a lot. I'm not a writer, not pretending to be, I just wanted to try a new creative outlet and so far it has been fun! I did a quick edit today so Sansa's thoughts are clearer.
> 
> jonnyandthekits on tumblr


End file.
